


Twenty minutes

by princessvicky01



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen Fluff, Cullen Rutherford Smut, Cullen Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 14:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8330779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessvicky01/pseuds/princessvicky01
Summary: NSFW Cullen and Annabel Trevelyan Inquisitor romance including smut/mature content. Their morning is disturbed by a call to the war table but Cullen won't let the moment go without a fight. Edited and revised April 2018 as my writing has improved (or i think so anyway!)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are lovely! <3

Waking with a light groan Cullen pulls the blanket up to snuggle against the cold. A gust drives chills to ruffle his curls, and it’s only then that he senses the spot beside him is empty. Reaching out he can feel her spot is still warm and hazily he searches for her through bleary eyes. A gentle smile creases the corner of his lips when he notes she’s not gone far.

The hole in his roof had been fixed in time for winter, but the room is still bitterly cold, and now he knows why. Perching on her tiptoes, she’s leaning out an open window. Sitting up his focus settles on her pale legs which led his eyes up to find his maroon bearskin cloak draped over her.

“By the Maker, what are you doing now?” His breath fogs and he tries his best to hide all traces of amusement from his voice. She’s full of surprises, and he had to admit it’s one of the things he finds most alluring about her.

Annabel turns to grin at him with childlike enthusiasm and wide eyes. “You have to see this! It’s snowed all night. The view is amazing!”

Leaning further to get a better picture of the scenery below the snow crunches under her palms and she relishes the crackling sensation. The anchor faintly hums, but she largely ignores it to cast her gaze over the glittering courtyard. Dawn had barely broken, and its dim pink light made everything serene. She knew it wouldn’t last long, soon it would be crushed under boot and hoof and whatever peace she felt now would be a distant memory. But for now, for this moment, everything is right in the world.

“I’m quite happy with the view from here,” his reply is made with a richly smooth drop in his baritone.

Tutting at his crude comment she rolls her eyes. She had awoken cold to find he had stolen most of the covers and in his dream-like state was reluctant to give them back. Not wanting to wake him, she had reached for the nearest warm garment and after noticing heavy snowflakes against the window had dashed over to investigate. Noting the cold still under her palm the tug of a smile comes to her lips, she sees no reason why she should be the only one who was chilly. Twisting on the spot, she throws a heaped dusting at him.

“Hey!” Cullen complained before promptly brushing away the flakes that had already started to melt with a touch of a chuckle. “I was paying you a compliment.”

Faint rays illuminated him, and she finds herself just standing to admire him for a moment. He sat, bare-chested wearing his delicate, humble smile under flopped curls and crooks one eyebrow in question at her stare. All she can do is wonder what she had done to deserve him. Whatever it was, she’s grateful. Without apologising for the snow, she spins in a circle on her tip-toes, as if his floorboards are the finest dance floor, fanning the cloak like a ball gown while using his furs to cover herself.  “Do you like it?” she askes, with false coyness.

His cloak drowns her and flaps wildly as she twirls. Keeping his expression serious he examins her carefully. “Hmmm…I’m not sure,” he replies, motioning for her to spin again and when she does he shakes his head. “No…No, it’s far too big, as one of your advisers, I recommend you remove it.”

Placing one hand on her hip she studies him and finds a definite shift in his expression, his eyes appearing hungry and his smile turning into something more wolfish. Padding over she climbs onto the edge of the bed and allows the garment to slip down off one shoulder. She loves teasing him, it had been so easy at first it had almost felt cruel, but now he’s learnt her games and is becoming quite an expert in it himself, only adding to her excitement. “I would, but then I’d be awfully cold.”

“I’m sure I could fix that for you,” Cullen’s hand runs up one of her goose-pimpled legs and she giggles before leaning closer to him. Moving in for the kiss he gasps as she deliberately places her frigid hands on his bare chest while wearing a wicked grin. One which he’s swift to return and her frozen hands are forgotten as he grabs to pull her in close for a scorching kiss.

A loud thump at the door below catches them both by surprise, instinctively she tugs the cloak back into place and edges closer to him.

“Commander Cullen! Commander are you there?”

The pair lock eyes before Annabel holds her finger to her lips in a shushing motion. The voice is muffled by the heavy wood, but it sounded like one of their agents. Jim. They both listen intently as someone tried to shove the door by force, but the lock held firm, a good investment Cullen noted.

“Commander, it’s urgent!”

Sighing Annabel moves aside, disappointed but not surprised by the interruption. “You should answer, it sounds important.” When he fails to move, she looks at him and notes his  **seriously** displeased expression. Despite his love for his role she knows he’s growing ever impatient with everyone’s attempts to intrude, accidentally or not, on their most intimate moments. The scowl he displays confirms he’s unconvinced of the need to answer, so she decides to provide some subtle encouragement by dragging the blanket away from him.

Now cold and exposed, he gets up with a grunt, mumbling something about privacy and pausing only to pull on his trousers first before descending the ladder. Opening the door a few inches, enough to talk to someone but not enough to suggest they should come in, he lets his irked manner become clear in a low flatness of his voice. “What?”

“Commander, sorry sir, you’re required in the war room, it’s urgent. Leliana said ‘without delay’ Sir,” replied a shaky voice.

A weary sigh escapes him, there was always something which demanded his attention. “Fine,” he said begrudgingly before glancing over his shoulder and back up to his room. Annabel is peering down at whats going on, and the furs have slipped off her shoulder again, drawing his attention to the glimpse of curves. He feels himself stir. When Jim clears his throat loudly, Cullen returns his concentration to the door, with his mind made up.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” his mind races to keep up with his body. “Better make that twenty.” He can see the agent appeared confused and required some form of explanation. “I need to fix my hair, but don’t tell Leliana that.”

Jim nods, appearing alarming easily satisfied with the answer, then turns to leave before briskly stopping, eyes snapping back to him before he can close the door. “There was something else Commander…”

“There always is,” Cullen growls, frustration evident in the furrow if his brow as his eyes narrow dangerously.

“Apologies Sir, but the Inquisitor’s attendance is required as well.”

“Well, if I see her I will be sure to mention it to her, thank you and good day.” With that Cullen forces the door shut. He knows he’s fooling no one, but their private lives are just that, private, and he makes certain to bolt the lock in place.  

Rolling his shoulders, he attempts to alleviate some of the stress already starting to build in his neck. It would be another hectic day, and he would be lucky to have a moment to himself, never mind find any time to spend with Annabel.

Climbing back up he sees her pulling her trousers with her back to him. Not wanting to let her go without a fight he silently approaches and wraps his arms around her waist. Resting his face in her hair, he takes a moment to enjoy her floral scent.

Annabel can feel him hard against her rear and can sense where his mind has gone by the way his finger’s lightly trace across her navel. “Cullen, we can’t, we don’t have time.”

Whispering he nuzzles her ear. “You’re the Inquisitor, they can’t start without you.”

He’s warm and solid, secure and robust, and everything she needs in her life right now. She bites her lip, she had to admit she’s beyond tempted by his hands as they stroked down her mid-rift, tenderly exploring. Josephine will be furious if they were late, again, and Leliana would undoubtedly make some sly comment.

Deft fingers have already begun unlacing her bottoms as he kisses down her neck, teasing, his stubble raw against her skin, and she suddenly doesn’t care about anything else anymore.

Swivelling to look at him she pounces to kiss that deviant smirk from his face. Wrapping her arms up around his neck she presses into him, forcefully pulling his mouth into hers while her fingers twist in his curls.

His hands are also busy tugging off undergarments as they stumble to remain as close as possible while escaping their confines. Once free, he runs his hands down her, trying to please her he slips a digit inside, leaving her to release a shocked gasp of delight. Muscles tense as she strives to angle his hand, she wants more of him and as he does his best to deliver, leaving her to bite lightly at his lip with a groan. Growing unbearably hot she goes to remove the cloak.

Something about furs, maybe their primitive nature or maybe the simple fact they were his, makes him rumble. “I’ve changed my mind, keep it on,” brushing it open he leans to nuzzle his face between her curves, kissing devotedly.

She relishes the feeling of his stubble as it scratches at her skin when his mouth moves over her, lips sucking and teasing at stiffening peaks. Panting wantonly her own hands slip down to caress him, to pleasure and toy with him. She can tell he welcomed her gestures as he grows ever distracted, slowing his own teasing game to release a broken moan against her nipple which sends a shudder of desire up her spine.

When she withdraws her delicate touch, he rushes her. Forcefully he pressing her further and further back to pin her to the wall. Now he can truly feel her, soft and tender, warm and inviting. Nothing else matters, he has to have her.

Reaching around he grasps at her rear while she wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling powerful shoulder muscles beneath her palms she pulls herself up to lock her thighs around his waist. Shifting she helps guide him and as he enters she gives a deep, blissful moan, barely noticing the stone wall at her back or the furs clinging to her body, as he slowly fills her.

The act draws a groan from him, and his knees tremble at the rushing pleasure. Nothing has ever felt so good. Pressed together as one he kisses her, the unique taste of her lips fuelling his desires. He isn’t sure how long he can keep her pinned like this but doesn’t want to hurt her, so starts with slow and deliberate thrusts.

Running her fingers through his sweat-slicked hair she stammers for air, arching her back to grind her body into his, she wants all of him, and he’s more than willing to oblige. Rocking her hips, they move in unison while she struggles to breathe, the air filling with gasps and groans, and she loses herself deep in the earthly pleasure of each movement. He fills every part of her until she could barely breathe, his drives are powerful, methodical, and banish all thought from her world.

Arching her head back against the wall she gives a frantic cry as he starts to rut faster. His lips are on her neck, kissing, and sucking against her hammering pulse. Then with one euphorically powerful thrust, she cries his name, her voice shrill and broken,  fingernails digging into steadfast muscles, face contorted with overwhelming pleasure. 

Concentrating he buried his face against her, snatching kisses to show his devotion, knowing he can not hold out much longer. It’s too much; she’s too much. She consumes him, her soft curves, her embracing heat, her scent mixed with his. He feels her spasm and her legs tremble as she calls once more, and it’s more than enough for him. A garbled groan rips from his throat as he spills inside her, followed by sheer blinding bliss rushing through his veins.

Panting, he stands on weak legs, feeling the combined quick, uneven rise and fall of their chests as she rests against him.  “I think you might have to get down now,” he puffs and slowly begins to release her from his grip, only now realising just how tightly he’d had hold of her.

Mumbling some noises, she disengages to slide down and collapse in a dishevelled position against the wall. Cullen doesn’t move, hands plastered to the stone supporting his weight while his heart continued to race, spreading sedated warmth through every muscle. Barely conscious, not sure how he is even standing, he’s shocked when she plants a kiss on his lips.

“I love you,” she murmured, rubbing her cheek against his, the fur mantle brushing against his sweat-slicked skin.

“I love you too,” he whispers, stroking down her hair and nuzzling her in return. Content he rests against her, and he takes a moment to enjoy her presence. They got so few intimate moments together he always tries to cherish them, to get him through the lonely nights when she was miles from his sight, his touch. Resting her head against his chest they remain that way for some time, admiring each other’s silent company until a brisk gust of wind pimples his skin and flurries the cloak.

“I’m sorry we can’t stay like this,” he doesn’t want to move but knows they must. His mind already starting to return to the real world and the demands of the day.

“Me too,” she nuzzles his face once more, seemingly as reluctant as him for this moment to end. “I suppose you’ll be wanting this back?” She motions to the fur around her neck, and he chuckles faintly.

“I think that would be wise, we don’t want to give them even more reason to gossip.”

“Well, at least now when you wear it you can think of me,” she chimes with a loving smile that reaches her eyes.

“I’m always thinking of you,” he replies, unable to resist kissing her in the process.

Knowing they’re late, they set about dressing quickly in a natural silence, both promptly attempting to fix their hair and regain their composure before slipping over to the war room across the snow-covered battlements.

Approaching the room, they realise simultaneously that arriving together may provoke unwanted comments and both pause in the hall.

“You should go in first,” confirms Cullen in a hushed tone. “To avoid suspicion.”

“Why can’t you go first? You’re the one who said ‘twenty minutes’, not me,” she whispers back, crossing her arms and scrunching her brow lightly.

“You’re the Inquisitor-“

“That’s your answer to everything!” Voice rising she’s quick to note her mistake and continued in a strained whisper. “You just don’t want to go first in case they say something embarrassing!”

“Excuse me Inquisitor, but we can hear you,” Josephine’s voice sounds through a crack in the semi-open door that apparently neither of them had noticed.

“Josie!” They hear Leliana’s exclamation followed by the low, harsh tones of a hushed argument.

Cullen and Annabel exchange glances. If the other advisors had previously had any doubts about their relationship, they were be long gone now. Taking the lead Annabel stands tall and straightens out her top. Pulling on her serious Inquisitor mask, she strides into the room purposefully as if nothing has happened.

“Inquisitor, it’s good to see you,” said Josephine cheerfully. “Ah, and good morning, Commander.”

Cullen nods his silent greeting while brushing past Leliana to his spot at the table wearing an intense expression and avoiding all eye contact.

The air shifts in his wake and Leliana furrows her brow as he passes Leaning in slightly closer to his bearskin collar she sniffs. “Commander, are you wearing perfume?”

“Huh? What? I… no, of course not!” abashed Cullen takes a defensive step back. He can feel questioning eyes boring into him so looks to Annabel, only to find her eyes sparkle back in mischief. His nerves fire and absentmindedly he rubs at his neck before clearing his throat and regaining his voice. “Anyway, let’s get to business, shall we? You said it was urgent?”

“Yes, of course,” replies the spymaster, a knowing smirk dancing across her lips before leading the discussion forwards.

———–

 


End file.
